PoetryAssignment.com » Drabble

Glass

shadowsinstone — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 01:08:18 +0000

Misty rain blitz wet and white

across the shattered window frame

His fingers nestled carefully among the glitters

Wind comes, refreshes the air

Freeing all involved of the scent of smoking tyre

Expended fuel and a burnhole made in the leather

No sirens; no birds

Just the smell of quiet and the sound of red.

Sweet Revenge

Heather — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 20:48:50 +0000

I’d never met his sister before.
“You have beautiful eyes,” she said.
I blushed.
He pointed and laughed.
“So, how’d you get that big scar, big man?”
“Well, you see, I had to subdue a perp, and he had a knife…”
“That’s a great story, now tell the truth.”
Mumble.
“What was that?”
“Well, the pan was really hot!”
“What kind of pan? Oil pan? Frying pan?”
Mumble.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Mumble.
“One more time?”
MUMBLE!
“Did he say…?”
Yes. He said, “cupcakes.”
Now he’s all red too.
Now it’s my turn to point and laugh.
Talk about sweet revenge.

Another state of living

JessAnn — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 19:55:21 +0000

I never thought about dying before. Never once did it occur to me that I wasn’t going to be here forever. That is, until I met Jimmy. Jimmy taught me what it meant to live life for now. He taught me that living life is the one thing worth dying for. It wasn’t until the day he died that I knew he had cancer. I promised him I wouldn’t mourn him, that I’d keep living life instead. But, as I sit here, planting daisies around his headstone, I know I’m breaking a promise. But, isn’t mourning just another state of living?

Boarding up a room

melissaoyler — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 19:08:23 +0000

He thought it valiant to tell his ex-girlfriend to fuck off, as he’d determined his new girlfriend didn’t like her very much. He didn’t expect new girlfriend to get angry, but it really was his desire for closure that led him to send such a message, and now new girlfriend had to take the blame for it. She began to wonder about this consuming need to shut the door officially on his past; it was almost as if the three deadbolts and “do not disturb” sign hanging on the knob wasn’t enough to keep himself away from thoughts of before.

One Tiny Detail

Heather — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 04:31:17 +0000

There he was: tall, dork, and handsome in a Green Lantern t-shirt and shaven clean. What was a girl to do? I was helpless before this beautiful geek. He had thoughts in that pretty head, and listened to what I had to say? When they all said we’d hit it off, get along great, they were right! I couldn’t believe it! We got some coffee (the same kind!) and talked about books (the same favorites!) and movies, music, dreams (same, same, same!).
Where was the catch? Why was there no second date? Oh, yeah… they forgot to mention his wife.

Their Song

JessAnn — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 22:24:23 +0000

He would sit at the piano in her living room for hours on end. Tinkering with old compositions, sometimes creating new ones. Now that he was gone, she missed the endless stream of notes he strung together. She still didn’t understand why he left. But she still remembered the night he did- she sat next to him as he played a new song, she couldn’t help but put words to it. Two voices, hers and the piano’s, singing out together in perfect harmony. She sat at the grand piano alone now, wishing that she could remember the tune to their song.

Her Own Funeral

JessAnn — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 22:21:20 +0000

Her funeral was beautiful- closed casket. No one knew that her body wasn’t inside- that she was actually in attendance. Her husband had promised to keep up an act of love for their children. She couldn’t allow it, though. It wasn’t fair to him, watching her with another. So, she concocted her own death. She cried during the funeral, not for the dead, nor the children, nor for the husband. She cried because her betrayal to her husband of twenty years brought her happiness she never thought she could have. As she left, she signed her the book as “Juliet Montague.”

Misreading the signs

melissaoyler — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 15:34:26 +0000

He decided to stop thinking for himself and let the universe decide what he should do. Freed from the burden of guilt and after trading a friendship for a new computer, he decided to resume smelling the roses and living life without a care in the world. He thought of himself as selfless but it would be years before he would realize he had torn her world upside down in an irreparable way. The universe knew already , though, and started giving him signs such as making it wintertime, thus no roses to smell, and a broken monitor to boot.

Headwinds Edge

headwinds — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 00:23:04 +0000

I’ve been here before

drinking coffee the color of nicotine stains

Staring outward on a sea of lights

shape of a twisted heart

Weakly twinkling on the rise and the fall

of ancient ashen gneiss

Worn down to the curves

rising and falling

I sit, fingering the broken stone

Waiting for that click click clack

as it hits the valley floor

Waiting for the cold to break my bones

To slump into the river

and reach somewhere far from home

Cache & Carry

Heather — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 14:53:53 +0000

My grandmother’s kitchen is where As Seen On TV specials go to die. There’s the pasta maker, the Foreman Grill, the frozen pizza cooker… I’ve never even sen a frozen pizza in her house, and I’m pretty sure she’d never eat one if there was. Still, she had to have them all–opened them with delight as we enabled her bizarre addiction on birthdays and Christmases.

I kid you not: we were actually pretty shocked when it turned out she hadn’t orchestrated some deal with God (or even Billy Mays) to let her take at least some of it with her.